I AM A GIRL, NOT THE FLESH - PART 7

 I AM A GIRL, NOT THE FLESH - PART 7

Un-Empowering NGO

After the legal course, I joined the Government service and rose through the ranks and kept moving on the upward scale. In that journey, I had the opportunity to visit different offices, gather information, get associated with a variety of persons in the execution of my assignments as a Government Officer.

I narrate one of such experiences, shocking? Yes! Surprising? No! Because I had stopped getting surprised at the behaviour of those in the power of any sort, yes any sort.

This was a bit different case where the aggressors who posed as rescuers did everything in their power to harass weaker girls whom they sought to empower. Unfortunately, I still possess hatred whenever I recollect their names. The story I heard from a girl, Neelam, meaning blue sapphire.

I was in a committee that was assigned the task of a survey amongst the women of the weaker class with respect to their access to services of the organisation which are in the field of women and child development. I met Neelam in the course of such an assignment. She had been part of such an organisation, and her experience was shocking, yes, shocking to many. She had rescued herself from the trauma, and my words only gave her some supporting strength.  

“I do not know why my parents named me  Neelam (blue sapphire), which is a beautiful stone. Probably, they could see that, being a girl, I was destined to become a precious stone only. To be traded, used as decorations, appreciated, only as lifeless beauty. The full circle ends in the soil. But as I grew, I wondered why they give such beautiful names to girls when many of the (so-called) human beings look at girls only as flesh. Not the dead meat for their stomach, but live meat for their body and mind, to be devoured repeatedly, by all and sundry, to be used, reused, and reused."

She continued, "I qualified SC from a government school, needed to do something urgently, as it was sure that if I did not start earning immediately, I would be married off to any boy. Coming from a downtown area, poverty and restrictions on women, both applied hand in hand."

"The area did not have offices, and with my qualification and knowledge, I was very clear that I might be getting a job only for textile stitching or a kindergarten or nursery school as an ayah. Prepared for such jobs, I was on the streets for several days and one day found a nondescript office, an NGO which agreed to retain me on a small salary. My purpose was to somehow get any job whatsoever, the quantum was immaterial. The NGO staff would visit the neighbourhood areas from time to time, and its existence was known to many. There were threats and warnings from relatives and neighbours initially that a 17-year-old girl venturing out for work was a sin for society. I ignored them. My parents did support me at that time."

Neelam took a gap for breath and restarted. "The NGO, being engaged in women and children welfare, espoused some amount of confidence of safety in me and my family. I started the job by looking after their creche cum learning centre, where the NGO used to bring small children of up to 6 years to teach them basic hygiene and mixing with others. They were also introduced to basic language and prepared for admission to nearby government schools. I loved the work as working with children, crying and laughing at the same time, fighting and making friends together, did not allow me to think of anything else when I was with them. It also helped me to remain a kid for some more time."

"There were other groups of girls, senior and more educated as compared to I. They used to work on other aspects of the office. Since most of them were from other so-called posh colonies, they used to pity me first, but then slowly became friendly. They started teaching me typing on manual machines and promised help in preparation for HSC through open school education. They also taught me stitching and working on sewing machines."

"I was very happy about the prospect of getting into the HSC as well as learning sewing formally. I knew that if I could do the HSC, it would be the first case of a girl in the entire family clan to study to that level. Sewing would also open up better opportunities in the nearby contract work centres. It was smooth going, and a few months passed. The President and Secretary of the NGO were husband and wife and used to visit the branch once a month and spoke to all of us. They used to encourage everybody and said that by working in their office we were also fulfilling our duty to serve society."

"After around nine months, the president came with a photographer, and we were told that the NGO would prepare a report on the working of the centre for bidding for new grants and projects. We were asked to continue with our normal work. All of us were told that the photographer would take photos at his will."

Neelam took a break as if she were pondering whether she should continue further or not. With a choked voice and teary eyes, she said, "Madam, I have never shared what happened after that with anyone because if anyone, whether in my family or even the neighbourhood, comes to know of these, all will blame me and my life will become hell. You know I am married now, and it is very easy for my husband to pronounce the divorce. Please, don't ask me more."

Gita got up from her chair, took her fresh glass of water and walked up to Neelam, who was sitting with her eyes glued to the floor. Gita touched her hand; it was cold, shivering. Then she sat beside Neelam, held her chin with her fingers and lifted her face. Gita then offered the glass of water to Neelam, holding the glass to her lips, and placing her affectionate palm on her head, slowly caressing her hair. The soft, confident caring of Gita took away the fear from the eyes of Neelam. She took the glass of water, drank it kept it on the table. Then she held the hands of Gita in a squeezing embrace, said, "Madam Didi, I will tell you. You will not harm me, but you can protect someone like me."

Gita, who was keeping silent all this time and letting Neelam vent out her thoughts, said, "Neelam, you have been coming to me for more than a year now, and we have worked together on this project. I have also seen your performance, met your family. Yes, can have full confidence in me. Whatever you are telling me, it is only for me. I am going to help not only you, but a few more, but to know, I need to know the facts. You are very safe in my protection."

Neelam, being assured, continued, "I kept myself busy with the children, nursing them, playing with them and teaching them as usual, but was aware that at times not only the photographer but the President of the NGO were also on the door or window of the room. They came inside the room also to take close-ups of the small kids and how I was caressing them or talking to them. I did not understand what they were talking but their presence was a bit irritating, as if an unknown stench was emanating from them, making the surroundings polluted. I was feeling strange, but what exactly, I did not understand. I continued my job, and the matter was over."

"After some more months, I saw a new report with the logo and name of our NGO. It had my photographs working with the children and some write up which was in English and therefore, I did not understand. I was rather happy that my photograph was published, though I knew it would not be allowed in the community where I was staying. In a couple of days, one of the senior workers, who had joined after me, called me and asked me whether I was facing any problem anymore. I was a bit surprised as to why she was asking such a question."

"That senior told me that the magazine of NGO had printed a story on me. The story said that I was being tortured at home and was going to be married to some old person. She said that the NGO Secretary came to know of my helpless situation and rescued me from my home! It further said that they gave me employment as a support to me and told my parents that if they forced me to marry the old man they would have to face criminal action as I was a minor!"

"I was shocked and told the senior that there was nothing like what she was telling. I had no problem at home like that. The financial situation was certainly not good in the family forcing me to look for the earnings. I told her that since I had started earning, my financial condition had improved. I accepted that I would have been married off had I not got the employment,  but not to the old man mentioned in the story."

"I told her that if such a story comes to the knowledge of my parents, they will be very angry with me and will not allow me to work anymore. Rather, it may bring problems for the office, also as my family was known to all, and parents also knew everyone in the locality. My father was staying in the same place for more than 30 years, even before the marriage of my parents."

"That lady said she did not have any knowledge of how and why the story was printed, but assured that it was not for public circulation and would not be shown to anyone in the area. She told me to keep silent and not to discuss the same with anyone."

"During the next visit of the Secretary and the President, I decided to speak to them about this, but both of them said they would talk to me separately and not in front of others."

"Once in the room with them, the secretary, the lady, told me that I did not have to worry as the report would not be shown to anyone except the donor organisations for taking grants. She said that it had other stories also for the purpose of collecting funds, and if they do not prepare such stories, they cannot get a grant. In that case, they will close the office and remove us from work. It was a direct threat to me, saying whether I wanted to continue in the job or not. If yes, I would have to accept such things. Otherwise, she could go to any extent."

"After a short talk, she left the room, and the president of the NGO, the husband, started speaking. He shocked me by saying he loved me and my style of taking care of children. He showed me the photographs which he and his photographer had taken on their previous visit. It was a shocking experience, and I felt I lost my voice. They had taken photos of me from all possible angles with an advanced camera. Then he told me that he had noticed in the photos that I was wearing unbranded roadside garments, and he was ready to buy better and costly clothes for me, including branded lingerie from big malls. I had become like a dead body, as if someone had drained all the blood from me. And this man was continuing his blah blah, I was not even able to hear everything."

"He might have realised that I was frozen with shock. He patted me on the back; his touch was like an electric shock travelling through my body. He spoke again, asked me to come with him for lunch, saying he would take me shopping and to a movie. He also offered that he could take me out of the station on office work with him, and I could earn a good amount of money as a travelling allowance."

"His words left me as if someone tucked me inside two walls, leaving me gasping for breath! As if my heart had stopped beating, I lost my power to see or hear! I became almost deaf and dumb." 

"He finished his talking with a vicious smile on his face and left. And I could see him and his wife exchanging gestures when they were leaving the office. His wife stared at me with dancing eyes."

"I was not able to explain what happened that day to anyone. Kept sitting there for some time and then burst into tears. I was poor, helpless, and knew they were powerful, intimidating. Two senior ladies came to me; they did not say anything, but kept asking me what happened. I was sure they knew what had happened, but none of us said anything. They gave me some water, and after I could gather myself, they dispersed."

"I needed the job and continued for six months till I was able to buy a sewing machine of my own to start tailoring services from home. During this six month period, the man continued coming, and every time he would accost me, smile and indicate he was waiting for me to accept his offers. My circumstances did not allow me to protest, nor even speak up, but only to silently bear with it, isolating myself in a cage. The only thing I consider myself fortunate is that he wanted to lure me away, corrupt me with his corrupt ways, but did not apply physical force on me."

Neelam finished her story. I was not dumbfounded; rather, the sense of hatred and revenge was raging inside. I made her spend another hour with me to console her and to show her that she needs to be stronger. She had come in touch with me due to her expertise in designing, and one of the community organisations under my administrative power was regularly working with her and many like her.

Yes, she refused to put her complaint on paper, due to her social community bindings, where it is the girl to be blamed for everything.  I knew the society and the people she was talking about, and knew they were getting grants under the sanction of my peers too. I took it upon myself to see that their accreditation with our ministry was revoked, and there was no scarcity of reasons for the same. That was a consolation for me, as also for Neelam, when I informed her about the revocation of the accreditation six months later.

I did not meet her after being transferred out of that department. Neelam left an indelible mark on my psyche against such organisations that were working for women's development and ensuring only domination. They were actually enjoying the skin, the flesh, and creating opportunities for themselves. 

Now it is more than 35 years, and when I think about them, the only comparison which I could think of is the stories about the feudal lords and their bonded labour, which must have emanated only from such experiences, rather worse. Such people were practising the feudal lords' ways of working.

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Part 8 is coming shortly. Wait for it